Nothings changed, really. I walked into the flat feeling upbeat, a box of cake in my hands Id bought it especially for Mum and Barry.
Music drifted from somewhere deep in the flat, with muffled voices underneath. Then I heard my stepdads voice call my name, and I froze in the hallway.
How long do I have to put up with your Poppy? Barry snapped. Shes like a sore throat I cant shake.
I held my breath, pressed against the wall. My heart pounded so hard I swear they could hear it.
Dont get your knickers in a twist. Let her pay for the anniversary, then she can go off. For now, keep your voice down, lower than the grass, he went on.
That made my breath catch. My fingers clenched so hard the cardboard box almost turned into a pancake.
Right, so thats what they wanted from me, I thought, a cold shiver running through me.
I tiptoed toward the door, trying not to be seen. As soon as it shut behind me, I practically tumbled down the stairs.
Outside the sun was just as bright, but the world suddenly felt washed out. I slumped onto a bench in the park across the street, the cake box resting on my knees, staring at it as if it could explain everything.
Five years of silence. Five long years I hadnt crossed the threshold of my parents house. I hadnt heard Mums voice or seen her face. And thenthis call, an invitation to an anniversary.
Barry had come into our lives when I was fifteen. Small, with a sly squint and a permanent grin.
Poppy! hed shout, winking at Mum. Our little tall thing, skin and bones, I swear shell be whisked away by the first breeze!
Mum would laugh at his jokes, looking at him like he was spouting the greatest truths ever. Barry, youre something else! shed clap. What a joker!
Id sit with my eyes down, trying to become invisible.
Mum, hes overdoing it, I finally blurted one day.
Oh, stop being such a child, she brushed me off. Its just jokes.
Each day Mum drifted further away, an invisible wall rising between us. I clung to memories of Dad, who always protected me and believed in me. Hed passed away two years ago, but hed set up a bank account that sent a monthly cheque for my education. My dream was to finish school, head up to Manchester, and get into university start a fresh life without Barrys jokes that always turned my world upside down.
I believed. I waited.
Graduation night felt like Id sprouted wings. School was behind me, a new life ahead. When I opened the flats door, a dozen strangers were gathered around a festive table. The air smelled of roasted meat and something sweet, glasses clinked, laughter roared.
Barry, perched at the head of the table with Mum beside him, spotted me first.
Ah, our graduate has shown up! he boomed. Come over, love! Lets doublecelebrate your school finish and my new boat!
I shuffled to the table, someone moving aside. Everyone, meet Poppy, my stepdaughter, Barry announced. Ive poured my heart into her, raised her like my own!
His mates nodded, and I stood there, fork in hand, replaying moments: him making me wash his car in the cold, mocking my grades, insisting Id end up selling fruit at a market after school.
Poppys a bit of a headcase, Barry continued. Shes just finished school. Ready to work, right, love?
I stayed silent, poking at my salad. Come on, Barry, a guest laughed. Let the girl study.
Whats there to study? Barry squinted. Works what matters now. Ive already talked to Mr. Hargreaves hell take her as a shop assistant. Standing behind a counter isnt exactly Newtons calculus.
The table erupted in chuckles, and I felt a fire rise inside.
Later, when Mum slipped off to the kitchen, I followed her.
Mum, can we talk? I whispered.
She seemed a bit tipsy, eyes glittering, movements a little loose.
Whats up? she said, setting a stack of plates on the table.
Im planning to go to university in Manchester, my voice trembled. I need the money from my account.
Mum froze, then turned slowly.
What money? she asked, frowning.
The one Dad saved for my education, I repeated.
Oh, that, she waved a hand as if it were nothing. Theres no money left.
My world tilted.
No what do you mean no? I whispered. There was
Theres none, she cut in. Barry needed to buy a boat, and look at this feast we threw.
I stared at her, not recognizing the mum who used to read bedtime stories to me.
You spent my money? I could barely believe my ears.
Technically it was in my account, Mum shrugged. Barry does so much for us. He deserves a boat and a holiday.
Just then Barry burst into the kitchen.
Poppy! he shouted. Ive sorted things with Mr. Hargreaves. From Monday youll be a cashier! He laughed, proud of himself.
I turned and slipped out of the kitchen, heading straight to my room. With shaking hands I rummaged through drawers and boxes, looking for Dads gifts gold earrings, a pendant chain, Grandmas ring. I found them tucked in the bottom of an old shoe box, untouched.
Barry never got them. Id have enough for the first few weeks in Manchester.
I sat on the bed, staring at Dads photo on the nightstand.
Ill manage, Dad, I whispered. I promise.
Five years zipped by like a single day. Manchester greeted me with rain, fog, and the warmth of new mates. University, a night shift at a café, a flatshare with a girl called Maya. Life fell into place; I tried not to dwell on the past.
One Tuesday morning, my phone buzzed with an unknown number. I usually ignore those, but something made me press the green button.
Hello?
Poppy! Sweetheart! Im so glad to hear your voice! a familiar, overly sweet voice chimed.
I stayed silent, gathering my thoughts.
Are you there? she asked. Poppy, can you hear me?
Yes, I replied briefly. I hear you.
Hows life treating you? I miss you so much! she cooed, sounding almost motherly. Can you believe its been five years?
My mind flashed: Five years I didnt think about this, and now shes suddenly nostalgic.
Its fine, I answered dryly. Im studying, working.
Oh, youre brilliant! she gushed. Im about to hit my 50th birthday soon. You should come.
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
Really? After everything?
She sighed, a hint of irritation creeping in. Youre dwelling on old stuff. Its all fresh now. Everyone makes mistakes. Im sorry, I want us to be a family again.
I closed my eyes, and Barrys smug grin appeared in my mind.
Does Barry want to see me too? I asked.
Of course! she blurted. He asks about you all the time. He worries.
Alright, I said, surprising myself. Ill come.
Really? she sounded genuinely thrilled. When can I expect you?
In a week, I think.
After the call I stared out the window, wondering why Id agreed, what I hoped to find. Part of me wanted to see Mum again. Maybe shed truly changed.
A week later I stood on the doorstep of my parents flat. Mum flung the door open and hugged me tightly.
Sweetheart! Look at you! Youve grown into a stunner! she babbled.
We sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, Mum chattering about neighbours and gossip. Then, almost offhand, she added:
Poppy, I just realised my anniversarys coming up and Ive got no money, she said, eyes downcast.
She wanted a proper celebration, but Barry well, you know how frugal he can be.
I took her hand, looked her in the eye.
Dont worry, Mum. Ill sort it out.
After a while on a park bench, I straightened up, determined. Theyll get what they deserve, I promised myself.
Back inside I slammed the door shut, loud enough for them to hear.
Mom emerged a heartbeat later, forced smile in place.
Poppy! I was wondering where youd vanished to! Come in, lets have a cuppa, she sang.
I returned her smile and handed her the cake box.
Heres a little treat, I said brightly. And Ive got a brilliant idea for your anniversary!
Whats that? Mums eyes lit up.
Ive booked a swanky restaurant out of town for your big day think fountains, live music! I even ordered a coach to ferry everyone there and back!
Mum clapped like a schoolgirl. Oh, my darling Poppy, youre my golden child! Barry will love it!
Sure thing, hell be over the moon, I replied.
Mum started rattling off the guest list. I listened halfheartedly, then slipped in, By the way, my friends grandma, Svetlana, needs a place. I could sell my halfshare of the flat to her.
Mums smile vanished, eyes narrowing.
Whats that about? she asked coldly.
Dont worry, I waved it off. Shes quiet, barely leaves her room. No onell mind. Ill give you half the proceeds for living expenses.
Mums face changed in an instant. How much are we talking?
I named a sum that made her eyes widen.
Seriously? That much? Fine, let her move in, she muttered, signing a hastily written notice without even reading it.
Great! Now, what dress will you wear? I giggled.
The anniversary day was bright and warm. A big tourcoach was parked by the house, guests in festive wear gathered. Barry strutted through, gesturing wildly, shouting something about his new boat.
Spotting me, he beamed. Ah, our benefactor! he exclaimed. Poppy always knows how to thank us for a happy childhood!
A guest laughed, and I gave a polite smile.
Everyone ready? I asked Mum.
Absolutely, love, she replied. Arent you coming with us?
Ill catch a taxi later, I said. Got a few things to sort.
Oh, youre such a caretaker! she cooed.
The guests boarded the coach. I had already arranged with the driver: half the fare upfront, the rest on return.
When the coach disappeared around the corner, I grabbed my phone.
Hello, Victor? Its Poppy. Could I view the flat today? As soon as possible?
I imagined the crowd, led by Mum and Barry, arriving at the fancy restaurant where no one was waiting for them, having to split the cost of the return trip.
Soon a broadshouldered man named Victor Stead, a strengthcoach, pulled up. He was friendly but had that look that says dont mess with me.
Everythings as we agreed. Ill move in today, he said.
Lovely, I smiled. I think youll get along fine with the neighbours.
After he left, I walked through the flat one last time, memories flooding back good and bad. Dads photo still sat on the shelf in my room. I slipped it into my bag.
As I closed the door on the place Id never truly leave, a part of me felt a strange warmth. They might never get what they think they deserve, but I was finally stepping into my own story.
